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Telly Taley Heart

Words: © 1993 by Tom Smith
Music: "Achy Breaky Heart" by Don Von Tress
For months after I first did this, Mary Ellen Wessels would, whenever she saw me, slow down, glower at me, and mutter: "Telly... Taley... HEART!?"

You say I must be mad, but how can I be mad?
You look at what I did and ask me "Why?"
Object there was none, passion there was none,
I think it must have been his evil eye.

That's why every night I shone a little light,
I shone it on him through the bedroom door.
On the eighth night he woke, and then his neck I broke
And I buried him underneath the floor.

I cut him apart, I planned it from the start,
There wouldn't be evidence to scan,
But then I heard his heart, his telly taley heart,
Telling everyone I killed the man. (Whooo!)

I buried both his legs beneath the garbage dregs,
His arms beneath the hanger for his coat.
The tub caught the stain, then hid the skull and brain,
So now he's got ring-around-the-throat.

The police came by here, but what had I to fear?
I let 'em in to take a look around,
But the longer they stayed, the more my nerves were frayed,
And then I heard that cotton-ticking sound.

Don't find the heart, the telly taley heart,
'Cause that's the only weakness to my plan,
And if you find the heart, the telly taley heart,
You'll prob'ly figure out I killed the man.

Don't find the heart, the telly taley heart,
It's pounding loud enough to beat the band,
'Cause if you find the heart, the telly taley heart,
You'll prob'ly figure out I killed the man. (Whooo!)

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